Edwin Schrödinger is famous for proposing a thought experiment involving a cat locked in a windowless room with some poison. His quantum mechanics brethren argue that, reality being based on our subjective observations, until one opens the door to the room, two realities actually exist: the cat is both dead from eating the poison and alive from not eating the poison. The option you perceive to be true when you open the door determines the fate of the cat. This principle comes into play during Sliding Doors, which could have also been called Schrödinger’s Chick Flick.
Helen Quilley (Gwyneth Paltrow) gets fired from her job early in the day and heads home to sulk. She reaches the train station at the last possible moment and her life splits into two realities. In one, she makes the train, arrives home to find her boyfriend (John Lynch) in bed with another woman, dumps his sorry butt, and falls in love with another man (John Hannah). In the other, she misses the train, stays with her cheating bohemian boyfriend, works two crappy jobs to support his goal of becoming a writer, and is generally frustrated with life.
When I was a young lad in the 1990s, this was one of those films that ‘everybody’ was talking about. Gwyneth Paltrow was the ‘it girl’ of the moment, and chick flicks never go out of style. What’s not to like? While some sequences are cleverly shot to produce a seamless transition between realities, this film will disappoint anyone hoping for any serious philosophical musings. I wouldn’t be so harsh as to call the twin realities a gimmick but it never really evolves past the point of being an interesting idea.
For those wondering about convergence and finality, yes, there is some. I won’t spoil the ending for you but I will say that I was not a fan of how the realities converge. There is a cute little sendoff that suggests our principal characters are somehow aware of the other reality that could have been, but that’s all it is- cute. It serves its purpose as a chick flick by giving audiences plenty to gush over, rant about, and hope for.
I suppose I was expecting more from this film, though I don’t know why. It was buzz-worthy upon release but it hasn’t gone down in the annals of 90s movie must-sees. Maybe Brits and anglophiles will get more out of it, but I think it’s pretty clear throughout that Paltrow’s accent is phony. That and you can clearly tell where harsher swear words were over-dubbed in post-production to gain a more audience-friendly, PG-13 rating.
Calling Sliding Doors a failed experiment is unfair for three reasons. First, it was not the first film to dabble with simultaneous timelines. Second, it strikes me that the filmmakers never set out to make a philosophical, quantum physics-inducing film. Third, the story itself is enjoyable and entertaining. If you’re feeling like taking in something quirky and different, check it out. If you pass on it, it’s not the end of the world. At least not in this reality.
Of the Best Picture winners in the 1940s, this was one of the few that I had not heard of before starting my Oscar journey. I feared that the reason I hadn’t heard of it was because it suffered a similar fate as the 30s Best Picture winners no one ever mentions any more- it didn’t age well. Just the opposite happened, however. I was pleasantly surprised to find myself enjoying artfully-made thriller.
Based on a series of fictional stories run in British newspapers during the late 1930s, Mrs. Miniver focuses on the lives of a moderately well-to-do London couple (Greer Garson and Walter Pidgeon). As Hitler flexes his muscles throughout Europe, the Miniver’s find themselves drawn into a new normal where air raids are a constant possibility and sacrifices are expected of all good British citizens. Love, loss, fear, class separation, and more are all addressed within this film’s two-hour, 15 minute runtime.
It took me a very long time to determine a rating for this film. Given the right context and the proper appreciation for its beautiful cinematography, it’s easy to see why this film was cherished in its day. By 1942, America had been drawn into World War II and was sharing the physical, financial, and emotional burden of war with Europe. While American civilians were far removed from any real threat from the Axis powers, Mrs. Miniver gave them a lens through which to view the impossible task of living a normal life in the cross hairs.
For modern audiences, this brand of rugged determination and sacrifice in the name of nationalism will probably seem a little over-the-top at times. Cynics will view parts as bordering on propaganda (indeed, FDR had it rushed into US theaters for just such a purpose). I will admit to being nonplussed by some of these sequences. I am normally just cynical enough to balk at such content but I am also very passionate about contextualizing films in order to understand them better. Some of this content feels very dated but the passion the actors put into their roles is undeniable.
As the titular character, Garson carries the film on her back. The range of emotions that she delivers is no small task but she produces like a champ. No indication is given to us that her family members are safe from harm (unless, I suppose, you have read the newspaper stories). Indeed, danger is lurking around every corner as the war picks up. This uncertainty keeps the tension high in all the right places. It may not be a non-stop thrill ride, but it would be hard to suspend disbelief if it were.
As I mentioned before, it’s the cinematography that won me over with this film. Camera angles and lighting choices during the more harrowing moments keep this film from becoming just another outdated war-era film. There may come a time when audiences are too cynical to appreciate Mrs. Miniver, but that time is definitely not now.
At times, I have been extremely patient and generous to Disney animated films. I recognized little advancements and stylistic qualities amidst the monotonous package films of the 1940s. I accepted lackluster films such as The Sword in the Stone and The Black Cauldron as, at the very least, entertainment. This however, is the straw that breaks the camel’s back.
An adaptation of Charles Dickens’ Oliver Twist (which I have not read), Oliver & Company is the story of an orphaned kitten (voiced by Joey Lawrence) looking for a home. Initially taken in by a petty thief named Fagin (Dom DeLuise) and his pets (voiced by Billy Joel, Cheech Marin and more), Oliver falls into the lap of luxury when a young rich girl named Jenny adopts him. Fagin’s loan shark boss (Robert Loggia) looks to exploit the situation for monetary gain, forcing Oliver and his friends to band together to protect Jenny, and each other, from danger.
This film is by no means a disaster. Children will more than easily plop down in front of the TV and take this in like candy. It’s got cute animal characters, funny antics, and songs. What’s not to like? First, there are a few too many characters, leaving most flat and forgettable. Second, the songs are all equally forgettable. Third, the animation is weaker than any of the films preceding it.
Disney probably thought they had a winner on their hands. They had the vocal talents of a bunch of stars popular with adults and all the cuteness needed from the animal characters to make kids want to see the film. Too bad it turned out to be style over substance. Given the films modern setting, I understand the decision to have Billy Joel, then one of the hottest songwriters around, do the music. The problem with going the ‘modern’ route with the music is that it all feels very dated now. The beauty of Disney’s best songs is that they possess a timeless quality. Oliver & Company is missing that.
By far, the worst element of this film is the animation. The main characters all look fine but the background images are a borderline abomination to the name Disney. There is little in the way of crisp lines, definition or depth. What’s left is a mish-mash of pastels running together in loosely-defined shapes. At times, the scenery reminded me of what the world looks like when I take my eyeglasses off. While I understand that Disney has every right to adjust and change their animation style over time, standards have been set for their animation quality over the years. Too much divergence from that standard is a bad thing.
Is this film still entertaining? Yes. It’s difficult to not enjoy a Disney film. Oliver & Company simply is not as enjoyable any of the films that came before it. With a plot that drags in places to help hide how thin it is, Disney commits the cardinal sin of cinema- it bores you at times. Add on top of this some dark content that might upset some youngsters and you have the first Disney film that is only ‘okay.’ They had an astounding 50-year run of good and great films, so it’s about time Disney stumbled.
Without question, Adolf Hitler was one of the most (if not the most) evil men ever to walk the Earth. Children in this and many other countries learn about his hate, prejudice, and atrocities in school. History and society have all but accepted a caricaturized depiction of Hitler and his fellow Nazi goons. Hollywood especially has benefited from this neat, easily-boxed version of the Third Reich. With this in mind, it becomes understandable why this German film made everyone so uneasy.
Based on a slew of auto-biographies, historical accounts and memoirs, Downfall follows a young woman named Traudl Humps (Alexandra Maria Lara) after being selected to be one of Adolf Hitler’s personal secretaries in 1942. Admiration for her employer and Führer has faded by 1945. Traudl finds herself cut off from the rest of the world, cooped up in the Führerbunker as Allied forces tear through Berlin. She and the rest of Hitler’s minions are forced to come to grips reality, leading to a variety of reactions.
After seeing this film, I am shocked that critics and industry types were hesitant to heap praise upon it. Were they really so naïve to think that praising a film that refuses to play to Hollywood’s stereotyping of Hitler and the Nazis would equate to praising or sympathizing with Hitler? My theory is this- the critics and the suits were too scared to be honest with us. Instead, we got carefully worded reviews that spent too much time explaining why they don’t like Hitler despite liking the film or throwing in their two cents on the dialogue about the humanity of Hitler that this films potentially calls into question.
This is a great film, plain and simple. Bruno Ganz is chilling in what is probably the greatest portrayal of Adolf Hitler of all time. He is fully committed to this role and it shows. The same can be said for Ulrich Matthes and Corinna Harfouch, who play Joseph and Magda Goebbels. Their sycophantic, unflinching loyalty to Hitler is unnerving to no end. They are so twisted and disturbing that I squirmed through many of their scenes, especially towards the end, where they put their loyalty to National Socialism above the lives of their children. Sickening is the only appropriate word.
The sets for this film are equally impressive. Scenes inside the bunker have a claustrophobic quality about them. This makes the audience feel every bit as stifled and cornered as the characters on screen when the bunker comes under attack or when Hitler goes off on a tirade. While no one every fully descends to the savagery of caged rats, it is evident from the bunker denizens’ faces that they’re never too far away from doing so. This is a testament to everyone involved with the production.
Does this film show Hitler as a real human being? Yes. Hitler is kind and compassionate to many of the innocent people working for him, like Traudl. The film does not hold back on Hitler’s stern and borderline psychotic handling of his military advisors and political underlings though. The end result is a broken, pathetic, feeble man clinging desperately to power and delusions of grandeur. That is far more unsettling than any caricature will ever be, making this a powerful film that I think everyone should see.
If you are looking for the kind of film that the whole family can watch with shared laughs, tears and warm fuzzies, consider your search over. Marley & Me hits almost everything right to entertain almost any family imaginable. It avoids virtually every pitfall plaguing the kids & family genre without resorting to crassness or sarcasm. In other words, this film is simply excellent.
After moving to Florida, John and Jenny Grogan (Owen Wilson and Jennifer Aniston) adopt a puppy to see if they’re ready for the responsibilities of parenthood. The dog, Marley, proves to be every bit a whirlwind as life itself. Through the years, and many ups and downs, Marley is the Grogan’s constant companion and provides John with material for his weekly column. The column and the dog both become objects of devotion, praise, scorn, and frustration as life passes by.
This film could have been incredibly tacky, cheesy and eye-roll inducing. Does it have a few predictable moments? Yes, but not as many as you might expect. The story itself is something that sounds dead-on like a Hallmark Channel movie of the week featuring second-rate talent creaking their way through a stiff but emotionally manipulative script. That Marley & Me is none of these things is incredibly refreshing.
Jennifer Aniston and Owen Wilson have wonderful chemistry and are acting well within their abilities. The writing (based on a true story) never strays too far out of the bounds of reality. It gets appropriately silly sometimes, which may not cater well to the cynical and uber-serious crowds, and matches the ebb and flow of real life pretty darn well. The restraint required to avoid cutesy clichés is hefty and I think it may even weigh on the pace just a bit.
One note of caution is that Marley & Me contains some mature content. Most of it will go over the heads of the youngest viewers but tweens and teens will understand it. There’s some implied sexuality and even an instance of skinny-dipping- pretty surprising stuff for a PG film. One thing I’m not crazy about is the swearing. Is it necessary to drop the s-bomb in a film marketed to young children? I think not. The cursing isn’t a deal breaker, though, because there is enough charm and heart in this film to move you past those few isolated incidents pretty quickly.
There’s nothing technically impressive about this film but Marley & Me is an absolute charmer. It’s emotionally honest about married life, parenthood, and pet ownership without resorting to forcing emotional cues. The issues faced within the reels aren’t sugar-coated or watered-down for easy consumption. While it may seem that this film caters toward dog-owners, it plays well to anyone who has ever owned a pet before. This is just part of the family-movie magic inherent to this film.
After the undelightful wash that was The Black Cauldron, Disney needed a win. They got one and then some with this charming play on Sherlock Holmes. Everything in the Disney mold comes out fresh and clean here- music, animation, and characters. In the annals of Disney animated films, The Great Mouse Detective could easily be labeled as one of the studio’s most under-appreciated works.
When her father is abducted, young Olivia Flaversham turns to Basil of Baker Street for help. The cocksure yet oftentimes oblivious sleuth accepts the task of finding the young girl’s father when he realizes the abduction is connected to the evildoings of his arch nemesis, Professor Ratigan. With the help of Dr. David Q. Dawson, Basil scours the streets and sewers of London in a desperate attempt to stop Ratigan once and for all.
If it hadn’t been for Cinderella and The Rescuers, you’d swear the Disney crew was crazy for using rats and mice as their main characters. They’re not normally likeable creatures but The Great Mouse Detective lives up to its titular superlative. Not once did I find myself rejecting the film because of the use of mice. Kudos to the source author, the writers, and the animators for creating a world where Basil and friends are not just believable, but acceptable too. I’m not very familiar with Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s tales of Sherlock Holmes, but I found the character of Basil to be a breath of fresh air. It’s been far too long since a Disney character possessed the confidence and swagger Basil exudes. Granted, these qualities tend to get him in over his head but that’s part of the fun of it all.
Another thing this film has going for it is some terrific animation. The colors and crispness call to mind the Disney Renaissance of what most people recall as the 1990s. That renaissance actually started in 1989 with The Little Mermaid. Guess what film that production and animation team worked on prior to rejuvenating Disney animation? If you guessed The Great Mouse Detective, you must be paying attention. While there had been some animated-over CGI in The Black Cauldron, the CGI foundations are more noticeable here. The crème de la crème is the chase through the gears of Big Ben. CGI modeling gives that sequence a unique sense of depth beyond the screen unseen in prior Disney films.
There is something delightful about the music in this film. The title music comes at you fast and fierce. Well, fierce for an era- and location-appropriate film about crime-solving mice. The playful tones not only match the action, it accentuates the tension, action, and/or silliness occurring on screen. Disney has had great music in many of their films but that music usually comes in the form of songs. The Great Mouse Detective is fairly light on the songs but you wouldn’t know it by the strength of the incidental music. Avoiding too many songs is a blessing in disguise for this film because the story doesn’t really require song-and-dance numbers.
It may not have all the bells and whistles of Disney’s greatest animated tales, but The Great Mouse Detective is a marvel compared to the films filling the gap between it and The Jungle Book. I don’t mean to put them all down, because some of them had a few unique qualities to boast of. None of those films exude the same amount of magic as this charmer though. Incremental steps evidence progress in the other 80s Disney flicks but it feels like the all the creative departments hit their strides here. It’s a shame this film got stuck between two duds. Otherwise, it might be remembered by more people.
As a fan of Alfred Hitchcock’s films, I am amazed that he never won an Oscar for directing. This Best Picture winner, his first Hollywood film, makes up for the Academy’s mistake and offers a superb look back at the growing talent of one of cinema’s all-time greats. While it may not be remembered as fondly as his later work in Hollywood, Rebecca is a taut thriller that fires on all narrative and technical cylinders.
An unnamed woman (Joan Fontaine) narrates a tale of memories, love, and danger. Her early life as a paid companion for the rich and self-important Edythe Van Hopper (Florence Bates) is dull despite their many travels. Her life changes forever when she meets the dashing Maxim de Winter (Laurence Olivier). Despite recently becoming a widower, Maxim falls in love with the girl and they marry hastily. When Maxim brings his bride back to his family estate, called Manderley, the new Mrs. de Winter receives a cool reception from Mrs. Danvers, the housekeeper. Obsessed with her former mistress, Rebecca de Winter, Mrs. Danvers engages in unrelenting psychological torment to show her displeasure. This, compounded with the mysterious circumstances of Rebecca’s death, pushes the timid new Mrs. de Winter to the brink
By the end of this film, you may feel as if your brain is a yo-yo. Hitchcock and his filmmaking crew are constantly playing with the pace of the story. After getting taken off guard by the speed at which the unnamed main character and Maxim de Winter fall in love, the flow tapers off to accommodate the exposition necessary to introduce Manderley and its housekeeping staff. Mrs. Danvers’ game of cat-and-mouse with the new Mrs. de Winter provides plenty of false starts and genuine thrills. By the time the third reel rolls around, I was all but ready to be let off the ride. Sure enough, Hitchcock saves the best and biggest adrenaline plunge for last.
I am unsure where I stand on the story itself. While it happens, the pre-wedding romance feels too sudden, rushed and unlikely. It’s not until the payoff in the third reel where the events of the first reel become acceptable. You just don’t see this type of narrative styling anymore, which may make the film hard for some younger audiences to digest. I like that, at the end of the film, you are invited to think your way through the entire tale once more. It doesn’t command a second viewing per se, but Rebecca is the kind of film that changes after the first time you watch it. The first time through, your time is spent absorbing the details and information. A second viewing affords you the opportunity to marvel at the little details scattered about that only made sense at the end of your first viewing.
The danger of this film is that it does not fit the 50s and 60s Hitchcock formula. If you come into this film expecting that kind of payoff, you may find yourself confused. I know I was. Having seen several Hitchcock classics and the works of those who emulate him, I felt like I knew what to expect and, for a while, this attitude had me enjoying this film less than it deserved. All that was reversed when the film took another direction entirely. My mind was sufficiently blown and all respect was restored. Not all credit can be given to the director though. This is an adaptation of a novel, so kudos to the original writer are in order. But, a little research shows that the Production Code of the time required the story to be altered slightly, which actually improves the ending if you ask me.
This is a film that does just about everything right. Overexposure to the suspense and thriller sub-genres water down some of Rebecca’s impact, but there is no denying the powerhouse performances of the main characters. Laurence Olivier effortlessly runs the gamut of emotions, Joan Fontaine is perfectly naïve and high-strung, and Judith Anderson crafts one of the most psychologically twisted villains in big screen history. Add on top of this the cinematography (including some deep focus shots) and editing, and you’ve got a real winner. To think that Hitchcock got even better than this is awe-inspiring.
I can’t speak for everyone out there but I think that most of you will be able to feel better about your family life after seeing this film. Featuring almost every potential parental conundrum of the 1980s, Parenthood is an interesting pill to swallow. Director Ron Howard delivers a kind of flipside to the John Hughes 80s teen coming-of-age flick with a look at the parents of the 80s- those poor souls who grew up in the idyllic 60s and 70s that must now deal with their Hughesian archetypal children and the insanity of the 80s.
What happens to Baby Boomers who grow up hating their parents, determined to never turn out like them? Why, they become just like them of course! This is the dilemma facing Gil Buckman (Steve Martin), a sales executive who is slowly coming to terms with the fact that he is every bit as distant and detached from his son as his own father was from him. But Gil’s not the only member of the Buckman clan with issues. His sister Helen (Dianne West) is single mother of two forced to deal with her daughter’s pregnancy and her son’s emotional issues. His other sister, Susan (Harley Kozak) is married to a control freak (Rick Moranis) who’s trying to force prodigious ability from their young daughter. Then there is Larry (Tom Hulce), the black sheep of the family who only comes back home when he needs help paying back gambling debts and business deals gone wrong.
Talk about your family reunions from hell, right? To be fair, there is at least one rational-minded member of the Buckman family. Susan is perfectly normal; she just married a guy with issues. Unfortunately, she gets very little of the focus in this film. Her contributions do help balance things out as a sort of voice of reason, but the rest of the film whips you around from one face-palming scenario to another. Maybe some families out there are really like this. I know my fair share of eccentric clans but this one hits a few too many crisis points for me to fully swallow it.
Maybe all the drama pumped into this film was over the top when it hit theaters. Maybe my skepticism is a byproduct of growing up in a post-Hughes film world. Whatever the cause, I, and I’m sure others, doubt the likelihood of so many issues plaguing one family. Kudos to the writers for doing their best to maintain a sense of balance amidst all of the characters in this film. Major props also go their way for keeping each character consistent throughout the film but also finding room for (almost) everyone to grow.
There is also some very solid acting in this film. Keanu Reeves plays the same kind of character he portrays in all his films up until The Matrix, but just about everyone else does a good job of coming off as authentic as possible. Savvy viewers will note a young Joaquin Phoenix in the mix, doing a fine job as a troubled child of divorce. The adults and children alike are all on top of their game. The only trouble is that Parenthood is fine when broken down into individual performance but, as a sum of its parts, it feels overloaded.
Steve Martin fans might come away feeling underwhelmed by this film. It ranks among his blandest offerings in the 80s. He still puts on a little pop and sizzle where it counts though, generating the most non-situational humor Parenthood has to offer. This is a film that does its best to cover everything at once while trying to be as inoffensive as possible. None other than Ron Howard could have pulled off that feat.
The MPAA rating for this film pretty much says it all- PG. PG? A Disney animated film? Really? Watching this film, the rating makes perfect sense but you have to wonder what the Disney crew was thinking. The fantasy genre has always been kind to the House of Mouse but for all its light, fluffy components, The Black Cauldron gets so dark at times that it is no longer recognizable as a Disney film.
Taran is a young assistant pig-keeper in a faraway land. His life changes dramatically one day when the sorcerer Dallban orders him to protect a magical pig. The Horned King seeks the pig because its powers as an oracle will lead him to the legendary Black Cauldron. If the Horned King succeeds in acquiring the cauldron, he will raise an army of undead warriors to destroy all those who oppose his ruthless will. When Taran fails to keep the pig from the Horned King’s minions, he sets out to reclaim the pig and defeat the Horned King if necessary. His path is beset by danger on all sides but a cast of colorful characters help him along his quest.
This is a very strange blend of ridiculously cheesy and dark fantasy. The film is adapted from the first two books in a fantasy series that I’ve never even heard of before. While the source material may have won a few awards back in the 1960s, whatever magic the pages held didn’t make the transfer to film. Maybe if I knew more about Welsh mythology the names wouldn’t all seem so outlandish and silly.
Taran is a fairly milquetoast fantasy lead and his only special quality is his determination. His success is largely due to the people and things around him. This kind of overly lucky hero archetype never sits well with me. Then of course there is Princess Eilonwy, whose appearance looks like an amalgamation of the costumes and features of the best Disney Princesses. The Horned King is menacing and frightening to look at, but his motivation in finding the Black Cauldron is pretty thin and recycled. Maybe it’s the current era’s effect on me, but I need my villains to be more complex than simply trying to take over the world.
The saving grace of this film is the animation. It’s complex, rich in detail and even stunning at times. For such a strange world, the animating staff really creates some immersive work here. That makes it all the more of a shame that this film get dark to the point of being un-Disney. I can appreciate the animation but after 24 films, Disney has crafted a very specific ‘type’ for its products and The Black Cauldron does not fit that type.
Fantasy fans and anglophiles may be more into this film than I am; I don’t know if it was marketed towards any specific demographic. What I do know is that this film could easily stain the reputation of Disney in the minds of unsuspecting parents. There is a reason why this, Disney’s first PG-rated film has been all but forgotten about. Despite my displeasure with some of the 1940s package films, the dark nature of this film makes it the least enjoyable Disney film as of its release in 1985.
Capturing both the physical beauty and social ugliness that makes up the African continent, Blood Diamond is a traditional heavyweight drama. Its goal is not to entertain but to captivate and illuminate. Exposing the dark corners of the diamond trade that most people are ignorant to or choose not to acknowledge, this film ties big business, organized crime and human drama all into one.
When his village is destroyed by rebels, Solomon Vandy (Djimon Hounsou) is torn apart from his wife an children and forced to work in a rebel-owned diamond mine. When the Sierra Leonean Army attacks the rebels, Vandy escapes knowing the whereabouts of a massive pink diamond. Vandy crosses paths with Danny Archer (Leonardo DiCaprio), a Zimbabwean diamond smuggler with powerful connections. Their relationship is shaky at best and, with the help of an American journalist (Jennifer Connelly), they set out to retrieve the diamond before anyone else can as well as Vandy’s son, who has been forced to join the rebel army.
The above paragraph is actually a pretty poor description of the entire plot of this film. The three central characters are operating on a grander scale than I can put into one paragraph. Colonialism, capitalism, barbarism, and humanitarianism all interplay in Blood Diamond. With all that’s going on, the film can’t help but get bogged down in the intricate weaving of plot details. While the diamond is the focus from 30,000 feet, this film is more like a collection of smaller conflicts, internal and external.
While DiCaprio is the star of the film, Connelly is its conscience and Hounsou is its heart. The combination of DiCaprio’s hard-nosed determination, Connelly’s lectures about the evils of the diamond trade, and Hounsou’s intense emotional roller coaster, this film will leave you feeling mentally and physically exhausted. Is it rewarding though? Pre-credit text encourages audiences with the fact that a super-minority of diamonds come from such entities since conferences between the diamond powerhouses in the 1990s. That either leaves you feeling a little warmer inside or it enables you to distance yourself from the events of the film.
The one thing that bugs me throughout the film is DiCaprio’s accent. It’s bad enough that his youthful looks make it hard to believe him as a seasoned smuggler, but his never-consistent accent is distracting as all get-out. They needed someone of DiCaprio’s pedigree and popularity to anchor the film and secure audiences but, just as I have issues with Americans playing British roles, there’s just something off about having him play an African white man.
While it may be a little too much to take in at one time, Blood Diamond is a very good film. The locations look sharp and Hounsou’s performance is wonderful. One might think this film was intended as Oscar bait but I disagree. This was a film made by people who appreciate the true dramas of old. It won’t likely become one of your favorites, and you may not even feel the urge to watch it a second time, but one viewing is certainly worthwhile.
Edwin Schrödinger is famous for proposing a thought experiment involving a cat locked in a windowless room with some poison. His quantum mechanics brethren argue that, reality being based on our subjective observations, until one opens the door to the room, two realities actually exist: the cat is both dead from eating the poison and alive from not eating the poison. The option you perceive to be true when you open the door determines the fate of the cat. This principle comes into play during Sliding Doors, which could have also been called Schrödinger’s Chick Flick.
